


No Place Quite Like Here [No Better Time Than Now]

by sockdrawer



Category: Amar a Muerte (TV)
Genre: F/F, Post-Finale, Post-Time Skip, Shameless Smut, Smut, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 17:36:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18393143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sockdrawer/pseuds/sockdrawer
Summary: Valentina means to be good, but, at the same time, she really, really doesn't.Just good ol' smut, honestly.





	No Place Quite Like Here [No Better Time Than Now]

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! XD  
> I meant to post this ages ago and got distracted! 
> 
> Song title is from Jhené Aiko's song ["Stay Ready (What A Life)"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6zyxURZkqo) which is awesome! 
> 
> Fair warning, this sucks! I am no good at Spanish so this is all in English. And, I am a poet, not a writer (???) and a run-on sentence Kween so read at your own peril, but enjoy XD!

Valentina means to be good.

No really, she means to just wait in bed until her wonderful, wonderful girlfriend comes back with the “best chilaquiles you’ve ever eaten” which she had been promising to make for breakfast for like months now, but the thing is, Val hadn’t really accounted for that wonderful, wonderful girlfriend slipping from beneath the sheets —gloriously bare— and tugging on nothing but a pair of underwear and the crisp white button-down that had honestly been half of the reason why half of their clothes hadn't even made it to the bedroom the night before.

Honestly, it's hardly even fair because Juliana in the shirt last night was breathtaking; this time, she doesn't even button up all the buttons —just a few of the bottom ones— before heading off towards the kitchen and Val can't help it; it calls to her like a Siren's song, tugs at her limbs; forces her right out of the warmth of their bed.

She’s spellbound.

Juls is gone maybe a minute at the most before Val gets up, quickly throwing on a clean tee from one of Juliana's designated drawers, to follow.

She finds her girlfriend in the kitchen, one arm hooked through the handle of the open refrigerator door, her frame softly illuminated by the yellow glow of the refrigerator's light as she shuffles things around, presumably searching for the right ingredients.

Barefoot and on tile, it's almost too easy for Valentina to sneak up on her girlfriend, arms slipping gently around Juls’ slim waist.

Juliana jerks at the contact but calms almost instantly as Valentina dips to rest her cheek between her shoulder blades, tuning out the mechanical churning of the refrigerator to zero in on the calming thump of her love's heartbeat.

“You have to stop scaring me like that, Val,” Juliana grumbles, but she hardly seems bothered, even less so when she turns in Val's arms, greeting Valentina with a dazzling smile.

“What happened?” she asks, fingers instantly moving to sweep stray locks of hair behind Valentina's ear. “Did you change your mind about what you want to eat?”

“No,” Valentina hums, so easily swept up in the feel of Juliana's thumb lingering against her skin. Honestly, chilaquiles really does sound great to her right now, especially after how much energy they had expelled last night, but, last night had been almost frantic —the result of Juls’ return from a two week work trip— now, Valentina is faced with so much smooth skin she hadn't been in the right mind to worship last night and truly, no breakfast food in the world could compare.

“Well, yes,” she changes her answer, using a palm on the small of Juls’ back to pull her in flush against her so she can use her other hand to push the refrigerator closed.

She gently nudges Juliana against the closed refrigerator door, trapping her with a hand grasping at her hip and the other resting against the cool stainless steel right next to Juliana's head.

“I'm not hungry anymore,” Val tells her, fingers clenching against Juliana's hip, so restless in her desire.

“Really?” Juliana asks, a grin blooming— clearly unruffled by the position she's found herself in. “Because you look pretty hungry,” she teases, so charmingly impish that Val almost can't stand it, has to slide her fingers upwards, away from the cotton of the underwear resting on her girl's hips and towards skin just to curb her mounting urge. 

She slips her fingers beneath the hem of her shirt, splays them against Juliana's abdomen to absorb the warmth of bare skin.

Juliana's resulting intake of breath is sharp, her throat bobbing beautifully as she swallows hard.

“You want to go back to bed?” she asks, delightfully guileless and totally not what Valentina had in mind.

Valentina shakes her head, pushes forward so their bodies collide— so she can tuck into the soft juncture where Juliana's shoulder meets her neck.

She stays there for a moment, close, just breathing in the scent that is so uniquely Juls it's almost maddening.

Lately, Juls has taken to joking that Valentina's on the verge of becoming a conspiracy theorist with all the little niche books she's taken to reading after finding out that transmigration is indeed real, but Val just finished a book on human sexuality and attraction and there was a whole chapter on pheromones that made Juls laugh for a whole ten minutes at the implication of some kind of animalistic, biological reproductive imperative being behind their sort of magnetism to each other; funny as it was, Val's starting to think that perhaps there is at least some weight to the theory — _clearly_ not in the sense that her body has erringly identified Juliana as a viable mate for procreation or vice versa, but in the sense that they are chemically suited somehow— because she's been attracted to others, sure, but there's just something about Juls’ scent that does something to her, that calms her, sometimes infuriatingly so, when she's upset, that grounds her when she feels like her whole world is being ripped from beneath her feet, and when she's like this —hot and more than a little bothered— there's something about inhaling that sweet, earthy essence that seems to set her synapses alight, ties her stomach into the tightest of knots, makes her whole body feel like it's burning hotter than an inferno until she’s consumed with the urge to touch and feel and taste and take.

She wants so damn badly, she’s aching.

“The bed is way too far,” she counters Juliana's proposition, bordering on petulant, which only serves to make Juliana laugh, her body practically vibrating beneath Valentina's with the force of her mirth.

“It's only a few steps away,” Juliana contends, which is technically true enough because although Valentina and Juls (by extension) were pretty much granted free reign to any Carvajal property they desired, the need for some time and space away from the constant barrage of press and random visitors who seem to walk through Carvajal properties like proprietors rather than guests had led them to this open plan modern little one bedroom just outside the city. It was only meant as a weekend getaway spot, somewhere they could just shut out the rest of the world when needed, but Juls had fallen in love with the natural light (and Valentina suspects also the quaint nature of it— the way they intersect here in a way the grandiose of Carvajal properties just don't allow them to) and honestly, now they spend more time here than they probably should.

It really is quite small — just a bedroom (smaller than Val's closet at home), a bathroom (with an almost comically small shower that they still manage to squeeze into together sometimes), a partially walled-off den (Juls’ domain because of a large rectangular skylight that she enjoys to sketch and sew under), a living room (Val's domain because if she sprawls out on the loveseat just right then she usually gets an uninterrupted view of Juls working in the den), and of course, the kitchen (which might actually be the most spacious room in the house, large and open, fitting a large circular dining table and lots of counter and cupboard space). Honestly, it's small enough that no room is really more than a few steps away from another, but to Valentina, with the one thing she wants more than anything already beneath her fingertips, the distance to the bedroom may as well be miles right now.

“Like I said,” she murmurs, scratching her fingernails gently across the skin beneath her fingers, loving the way Juliana’s abs twitch at the sensation. “Way too far,” she insists, pressing her lips against the skin right below Juliana's collar.

She presses another kiss a little higher and then another, peppering the column of Juliana's neck with gentle kisses until she reaches just below her jaw where she grazes with teeth, soft at first, and then a little harder until Juliana curves into her with a strangled little gasp.

Valentina’s core throbs.

It’s embarrassing really the way something so small can set off a reaction so huge inside her but she loves it — loves the way her body reacts so candidly to Juliana’s pleasure. She’s almost dazed as she pushes further forward, hips searching, tongue darting against sensitive flesh to soothe the sting of her bite one second and her lips wrapping around the dampened skin the next, sucking hard against the underside of Jul’s jaw until her pulse quickens beneath Val’s tongue, her fingers fisting into Valentina's t-shirt as if on reflex.

“Valentina!” Juliana warns, breathless but sharp, and Valentina knows exactly what the admonishment is for, knows that the moment she removes her lips, she’ll see the deep red aftermath of her affection, knows it’ll be hell to painstakingly cover up when they have to go meet her brother and Renata for lunch in just few hours, knows that the gossip blogs have been starved lately (what with Eva on her best behavior behind bars and Guille on his best behavior for Renata and Val being starved herself in Juls’ absence), she knows that all it will take is one picture of the flourishing bruise for at least one of those gossip blogs to try to make their love seem like something dirty and yet, even knowing all of this, Valentina can’t find it in herself to care. She’s never been great at restraining herself around Juls anyway, doesn’t want to even when she really should.

She presses her tongue hard against the reddened spot again in silent protest and Juliana jerks her neck away from the onslaught even as her fingers curl around Val’s hip, somehow pulling her closer.

“Val,” she sighs, but whatever further admonishment she has seems to die on her lips the moment their eyes lock because suddenly Juls looks just as dazed as Val feels, lips softly parted, her eyes midnight dark as they roam over Valentina’s face, quickly followed by her fingertips, touch feather light as she traces along Valentina’s eyebrows, sweeps her knuckles delicately across her cheek and ends with her fingertips mapping Val’s lips, her thumb resting daintily against the arc of her bottom lip. 

The thing is, Valentina has never been particularly good at denying temptation and Juls _knows_ this (has experienced it first hand thousands of times), so it really shouldn’t come as a surprise to her when Valentina parts her lips to touch her tongue against the pad of her thumb, and yet, Juliana gasps, softly surprised anyway, her eyes fluttering shut for just long enough that it can't be mistaken for anything other than affected, and Valentina swears something inside her gives way.

Emboldened, she takes the tip of the digit between her teeth, swirls her tongue around the sensitive flesh until Juliana retreats, retracts the digit from between plush lips with a soft _pop_ and almost instantly, she’s curling her fingers desperately around the nape of Valentina’s neck, tugging her closer until their foreheads touch first, the air between them charged as they breathe into each other.

It's Juliana who connects their lips first, firm and certain, drawing Valentina easily into her reverent touch.

It's so soft at first, so earnest and tender, but soon, Valentina catches Juliana’s bottom lip between her teeth, feels Juliana’s lips part beneath hers and everything turns electric.

Valentina doesn’t understand how, after all this time, kissing Juliana still feels _new_ —still feels so raw and poignant— and yet, somehow still feels almost inevitably familiar. The weird thing is, Valentina can’t remember it ever _not_ feeling like that — even during the curious, fumbling onset of their love, Juliana's lips had felt like something she knew, the tremble of Juliana's breath had felt like something she had missed.

She's used to the hot velvety curl of Juliana's tongue dragging against the inside of her lip; she's used to the sweet, shuddering sigh that gets muffled against her lips when she flicks her tongue against the roof of Juliana's mouth; she's used to the ebb and flow of it all — the way Juliana pushes against her pull — but, she's not sure she'll ever be used to how everything crackles between them like the warmth of a fireplace sputtering alive in winter; she's almost certain she'll never be used to how she feels even the lightest brush of Juliana's tongue all the way down to her toes.

Kissing Juliana is electrifying and invigorating and Valentina keeps doing it, keeps slotting their lips together perfectly, over and over and over again until her lungs force her to pull away to breathe and suddenly, _somehow_ , with air rushing back to her lungs, she’s rendered even more breathless— suddenly, she’s reminded of why this couldn't have waited until after breakfast.

Honestly, Juliana looks like something out of a magazine meant to tantalize — what with her hair mused (Valentina doesn't even know when she did that but she can't deny that she's the one who did it), lips kiss-swollen (Valentina's pretty proud to admit she did that one) and that shirt (Valentina doesn't know what it is about _that_ shirt) suddenly slightly crumpled (from the pressure of Valentina's body and wandering hands) and still buttoned just enough to tease, just enough to create a sweeping V that leaves Juliana's lightly heaving chest exposed but the swell of her breasts implied rather than advertised, concealed by the way the material of the shirt finally comes together.

This is so much better than a magazine though because Valentina gets to touch — gets to slide her hand from where it has coiled itself around her girlfriend's waist, gets to trail her fingers down the placket of the shirt, gets to slip the buttons free, one by one by one, until the shirt spills open and _damn_.

Her girl is beautiful. Like absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous.

Valentina can't help herself; regrettably, has to actually take a step back from the warmth of Juliana's body to visually take her in and absolutely wreck herself in the process.

The truth is, Valentina has always had a bit of a wandering mind and now she's also amassed a mental bank of images and moments of/with Juls that could very well, at any given moment, slip from subconscious to all she can fucking think about for hours and she knows that this —the way Juls looks right this moment, shirt flung open, breasts perky, abs tight, so unwittingly seductive it's enviable— is going to take precedence over absolutely everything for a while.

Valentina takes in everything, rakes her eyes over every inch of exposed skin, loving the way Juliana flushes under her gaze, a deep crimson blooming beneath skin, blazing like wildfire up her chest and her neck and splattering red against her cheeks.

Valentina knows Juls often gets shy in moments like these, knows how her variety of doting affection can sometimes overwhelm her more demure girlfriend, knows that beneath the steel Juls projects, there's a burst of nervous energy, but Juls doesn't try to cover up, not anymore, not with Valentina, and Valentina loves that most of all.

“You are so beautiful, Juls,” she breathes, absolutely and always awed, though she knows better than to let the words linger, knows better than to give Juliana the chance to become self-conscious; instead, she's quick to let her actions do the talking, slips her fingers uninterrupted over the dips of her abdomen and upwards, places a sloppy kiss against Juliana's chin, down the center of her throat, sucks at the sharp ridge of her collarbone.

Her hands and lips meet over the delicate swell of breasts, palms cupping, lips pressing against her breastbone and over the smooth skin of her breasts over and over until she honestly feels like she’s torturing herself with the teasing, has to stifle her own sigh of relief as she finally rolls her tongue over a stiff nipple.

There’s a sort of instant gratification in the way the tight bud ripples beneath her tongue, in the way Juliana sighs so softly, her fingers soothing through the hair splayed messily down Val's back. Valentina bites lightly at the bud and then sucks and that sigh turns desperate, fingers tangling in hair closer to her scalp, closer to tugging.

Juliana steers Valentina back to her mouth and Valentina goes more than willingly, loves the way Juliana kisses her hard and without pretext, tangibly imploring in the way she grips at Valentina's t-shirt, tugging until they're flush, until they're connected at so many places that it's almost dizzying.

It's incidental —more instinctive than anything— when Valentina slips a thigh between Juliana's. It's an attempt to settle more of their combined weight against the refrigerator, to ground them even though the world suddenly feels like it's spinning, but Juliana almost instantly grinds down on Valentina's bare thigh, so warm even through the cotton of her underwear that the sheer implication makes Valentina’s skin tingle — makes her feel more overcome than before.

Valentina pulls away from Juliana's lips, breathless and reeling but determined; she takes Juliana's hand, intertwines their fingers and softly tugs.

“Come,” she instructs, already walking them backwards, leading, though to where, she isn't quite sure, not until the backs of her thighs softly collide with their walnut dining table. She spins them, gently backing Juliana against the wood, arms encircling her girlfriend as she taps on the stained wood. “Up,” she requests.

“On the table?” Juliana asks, eyebrow raised. “Val, we eat here,” she lightly protests.

Val is less than deterred.

“Exactly. So it’s perfect,” she responds slyly, chuckling softly when the connotation of her reply sets in, Juliana's cheeks suddenly tinting a pretty faint red though she's quick to cover her face with her hands, shaking her head softly.

“I don't even know what to do with you,” Juliana jokes, uncovering her face, her eyes conveying such fondness that Valentina really doesn't know what to do with herself either; she honestly never really imagined herself ever feeling this comfortable and loved and respected and it _still_ never fails to make her heart race.

“You could love me?” Valentina suggests, nuzzling again against Juliana's neck, letting her lips linger against the warm skin. “But,” she murmurs, tapping her palm on the table once again. “Let me love you some first?”

Juls huffs out a breath, adorably exasperated, but she doesn't object this time, easily eases backwards to sit up on the table and Valentina immediately chases, settling to stand between Juliana’s thighs.

Juliana’s newly elevated position means Valentina has to tip a little on her toes to kiss her, but Val hardly minds, not when Juls is so keen to meet her halfway, legs wrapping around Val's midsection to draw her in as she leans down to reconnect their lips.

Valentina is eager but methodical, takes her time to press hot, little open mouthed kisses down the column of Juliana's throat, along the sharp edge of her collarbone, against the ridges of her ribcage until she has to slip onto her knees to comfortably nuzzle against the soft skin of Juliana’s abdomen.

She tugs on Juls’ hips, pulls her to sit closer to the edge of the table as she flicks her tongue just beneath the waistband of Juliana's underwear, licking across the jutting outline of her hip bone but no further.

Honestly, Juliana's willpower is admirable. Her fingers catch in Valentina’s hair, gently sweeping it away from her face, but she doesn't push, she doesn’t beg —Val knows she'd have to tease for much, _much_ longer than her own willpower can usually withstand for that to happen— still, Juliana’s body always betrays her placid stoicism, her anticipation evident in the way she’s clearly biting the inside of her cheek, her chest rising and falling unevenly, the knuckles of her free hand turning pale from the force of her grip on the edge of the table. And Valentina can smell it, the heady scent of arousal both sharp and sweet and heavy enough that she can practically feel it, filmy on her tongue, even though she hasn’t even tasted her yet — doesn't think she can wait any longer to even if she actually wanted to.

Palms resting on Juliana's knees, Valentina pushes lightly to spread her thighs, nestles her cheek softly against the smooth skin of Juliana’s inner thigh to calm herself as she finally darts her tongue out, glides it in one sweeping motion across the cotton of her underwear where Juliana’s warmest.

Juliana gasps quietly, twitching beneath Valentina’s tongue, so Valentina does it again, this time licking harder, broader, again and again, dampening the material beneath her mouth and savoring the tinge of Juls that clings to it. The taste is subdued through the fabric but intoxicating nonetheless and Valentina wants more.

Sliding her fingers beneath the waistband of the underwear, she pulls until Juliana arches her hips for her, allowing her to peel the sticky fabric from where it clings to skin. She tugs it from around Juliana’s ankles, leaves it somewhere behind her on the floor and concentrates on Juliana, on dragging her lips from ankle to calf to shin to knee to thigh until Juls’ fingers slip from her hair to her cheek and Valentina looks up at her, finds dark eyes consuming her —loving her, worshiping her— looking at her like she’s given her everything she could possibly ever want even though Valentina hasn’t even really touched her yet, not in the way she wants to anyway.

“I want you so bad,” Valentina sighs, more earnest than seductive, dragging her chin through the downy patch of neatly trimmed hair beneath her just to revel in the tickle of it.

Juliana’s hand find its way back to her hair, pulling stray wisps through her fingers and out of Val’s way as Val leans in, finally drags her tongue up Juliana’s slit from her entrance to her clit and down again, enjoying the way Juliana parts beneath the foray of her tongue, opening to her like something secret Valentina’s cracked the code to.

If someone had told her just a few years ago just how much she’d enjoy doing _this_ then Valentina would have probably laughed at them, the thought of even kissing a girl on the lips so far from her mind back then that it hadn’t even entered her subconscious and yet, here she is, on her knees, tongue pressing inside her girlfriend and honestly, Valentina absolutely loves this — loves how unimaginably smooth the warm flesh feels beneath her lips; loves the taste and the slick of it, how it coats her tongue and gets spread against Juliana’s folds as Valentina tongues at her, licks with sure, broad strokes that make Juliana whimper softly every time the flat of Valentina’s tongue passes over her clit.

That might be what Valentina loves the most — the way Juliana reacts to her, her eyes closed tight, jaw clenched, bottom lip pulled so hard between her teeth that Valentina's sure it'll be tender afterwards.

Valentina is so weak for it, moans at every uninhibited cant of Juliana’s hips, feels herself throb and drip as Juliana gets wetter beneath her mouth.

She pushes against Juliana’s thighs, further parting them for more room as she dips her tongue inside again, forever fascinated by the tremble and clench of Juliana’s body welcoming her, enjoying the slick against her chin and the way Juliana writhes at the intrusion, drawing her in.

Valentina takes her time —curls her tongue into her and out, licks soft one second and then firm the next, uses the vibration of her lips and the tension in her jaw to suck at her— never settling too long on any one rhythm, not until Juliana’s soaked and swollen, flesh beautifully flushed, thighs trembling beneath every meaningful touch; it’s then that Valentina becomes purposeful, lays a soft kiss against the swollen bud of her clit in gentle warning before wrapping her lips around the bud, sucking hard.

Juliana jerks, hips rising, fingers carding through Val’s hair, urging.

“Val,” she pants, low and raspy and a little startled, like she’s shocked by her own exclamation, like she’s stunned by the force of her own pleasure; the guttural utterance —her name, from Juls, like _that_ — makes something in Valentina’s stomach lurch, tears from her throat an absolutely wrecked groan.

She sucks steadily, a little messily, any thoughts of possibly going slow gone as Juls twitches in her mouth, straining for release.

She’s close, back bowing so desperately, thighs shuddering, fingernails scratching lightly against Val’s scalp, and yet, Val feels like she’s the one desperate for it, feels something inside her pull taut, just itching to feel Juls come apart beneath her mouth.

She presses her tongue against Juliana’s clit, one hand wrapping around Juls’ thigh to spread her open and vulnerable, while her other hand slides its way beneath her to grasp at the wonderful curve of her ass; she squeezes, grasps tight, encouraging the jerk of Juliana’s hips, encouraging her to rub herself against the soft, wet friction of lips and tongue.

It’s like time stops when Juliana tenses, everything in the universe just melting away, except _this_ — except Juliana’s thighs pressing against her ears.

Every cell inside Valentina tingles, her whole consciousness captivated by Juls and the way her thighs clamp and her fingers grasp and her breath hitches as she pulses beneath Val’s tongue.

It’s breathtaking the way she suddenly unfurls, quiet but quivering, head thrown back, lips parted, jaw slack, leaning back against the table on an elbow to steady herself as Val licks her through the aftershocks, wet heat melting on her tongue until Juliana eventually jerks away from the pressure and Val's forced to pull away, but not too far, busies herself with nipping at the inside of Juliana’s thighs, soothing the sting of her bite with her come glossed tongue.

She kisses her way back up Juliana's body, soft and sweet, until finally, she nuzzles against Juls’ jaw, watching and waiting, and waiting, and waiting, until those beautiful brown eyes finally flutter open and Juls tilts her head to gaze at her with this slightly unfocused sort of awe that makes Valentina, thighs so sticky from desire that it's probably hard to believe she isn't the one who just came, fill with such a pure, visceral affection that she suddenly feels warm for entirely different reasons.

“Good morning,” she grins, nestling her forehead gently against Juls’ shoulder, content to just take her in, to linger in her post-orgasmic bliss.

Juliana rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, lethargic and sated. She turns to press that smile against Valentina’s head and then to her lips, kissing her lazy and indulgent though it escalates pretty quickly what with Val far too desperate to resist the urge to slide her tongue between parted lips and Juls growing bolder by the second, sucking Valentina’s tongue between her lips like she’s siphoning stamina from Valentina’s longing. 

Valentina pulls at Juliana’s hands, drags her arms to wrap around her as she kisses her hard and needy.

She’s so hungry for more contact, so hungry for _anything_ and Juls must sense that because she smiles against Val’s mouth, manages to slip from the perch of the table so they’re almost level again, kissing her with a practiced kind of intimacy that is simultaneously _so much_ and _not enough_ at all.   

Val tugs at the collar of Juls’ shirt, pulling her as close as possible and almost toppling them over in the process but Juls steadies them, pulls back to chuckle as she reverses their positions, pressing Val's back against the table.

Her eyes roam over Valentina, the gaze almost a caress in itself, and Valentina knows that she must be a special kind of mess right now, chin still glistening, nipples poking hard through the material of her t-shirt, hands slightly trembling with just how badly she wants, but Juls still looks at her like she's the most precious thing she's ever seen and honestly, that isn't helping in the slightest, just makes her stomach twist in on itself.

“Juls, please,” she pleads, already sliding to sit up on the table, thighs parted, inviting.

“Someone's eager this morning, huh?” Juliana teases and Valentina's used to that — used to the gentle teasing — but when Juliana's voice is still _that_ raspy, still so thick with the aftermath of her orgasm, well, then it feels less like teasing and more like _torment_ ; feels like she’s burning Valentina from the inside out.

In lieu of a verbal response, Valentina wraps her legs around Juls’ back, heels pressing in as she reels her in with strong thighs until her core is pressed firmly against Juliana’s torso, slick heat spreading over soft skin.

She groans, bucks her hips hard to feel that sharp spark of fleeting pleasure that flickers hot along her spine and Juliana hisses — a quiet, afflicted little sound— as she grasps desperately at Valentina's hip, rocks Valentina hard against her.

It’s _so good_ , the pressure of it, the way she slides so easily over skin she's already made sticky with her desire and on any other day, this kind of heady slow grind might be enough — in fact, last night it _was_ enough, Juls having flown in so late that they had collapsed into bed already exhausted, Valentina getting herself off with her fingers circling Juliana's clit and her core pressed against the strong muscle of Juliana's thigh— but right now, Valentina's so needy, yearns for that mind-blowing kind of pleasure that she knows Juliana can give her.

“Juls,” she whines, grasping at one of Juliana's wrists, guiding her to where their bodies are still intersected, to where she's pressed flush against her. “Baby, I need you to touch me,” she murmurs, coaxing, knowing that Juliana is, if anything, attentive — never fails to give Valentina exactly what she asks for.

It's no different this time and somehow, even with Juliana's wrist still held delicately between her fingertips, even though she's tracking the descent of Juliana's fingers with bated breath, the moment Juliana _really_ touches her, fingers gliding soft and tentative through slick heat, Valentina exhales a shaky breath, wholly surprised by the intensity of the touch.

She releases Juliana’s wrist, instead curling them around the nape of Juliana’s neck to pull her back against her lips, a moan muted against Juliana’s mouth as Juliana’s fingers slide against her, so gentle but deliberate, sliding through her folds with a practiced ease that has Valentina's back arching, hip bucking into Juls so hard that her fingers slip and suddenly prod gently at Valentina's entrance.

Everything aches.

It's so fucking maddening, the implication of it, and Valentina clenches pitifully in longing, her whole body practically sobbing for more.

“Please,” she begs, breathless, grasping at Juls’ bicep through her shirt, feeling absolutely out of control with want. “Put your fingers inside me,” she instructs, hips already bucking, already searching for the contact she so desperately craves. “Fuck me.”

“Okay, Val,” Juls breathes out, forehead pressed against Val's collarbone, nodding against her as she slowly slides two fingers in, slipping into her so easily that Valentina can actually hear just how wet she is, can actually feel herself dripping around Juls’ fingers. 

Juliana’s fingers feel like magic, slender and dexterous, pushing in with enough force that Valentina feels it flutter in the pits of her stomach and when Juliana retreats, pulls out just to her fingertips, Valentina feels that too, feels like Juliana is pulling the air right from her lungs.

It doesn’t feel like some sort of stand-in, or like foreplay, as Valentina may have once foolishly thought it would; no; when Juliana fucks her with her fingers, it’s with hard, deep strokes, curling into her with the utmost concentration, not at all unlike the way she works on a design, delicate but purposeful, sometimes a touch reckless, often tearing out stitches just to sew them back together again, neater and better.

Juliana presses in deep, her palm brushing against the throbbing nub of Valentina’s clit and Valentina sort of feels like she _is_ being pulled apart at the seams, feels like the touch might actually wreck her.

She’s so far gone already, she’s quivering, tugging desperately at Juliana’s shirt to quench her thirst for _more_ — more pleasure, more skin, more Juliana.

The shirt slips off of Juliana’s shoulder and Valentina drags it carelessly down her free arm —lets it just hang off of one arm because getting it off completely would require Juliana not being inside her and that isn’t an option right now, not even for a millisecond, not when pleasure is swelling in Valentina’s stomach, blazing hot like wildfire through every nerve-ending.

“Fuck,” she curses, soft and wistful, fingers helplessly gripping at the smooth skin of Juliana’s back, wanting so desperately to kiss her again but feeling too overcome to do much more than use her elevated position to rest her cheek against the top of Juliana's head, hot, panting breaths wafting at strands of hair. “That’s so perfect, Juls. Just like that,” she’s babbling, eyes closed tight, stars erupting behind her eyelids as Juliana pumps into her, harder, faster, pressing against her just _so fucking good_.    

She comes so hard, her whole body suddenly tensing, Juls’ name caught in her throat, fingernails scratching up Juliana's back, digging in for purchase as she cracks beneath the weight of her pleasure, shuddering and clenching hard around Juliana's fingers.

She feels so suddenly tranquil that it’s almost as if she’s weightless, completely boneless, feels like she could just float away if it weren’t for the solidity of Juls’ body keeping her tethered, keeping her grounded by her presence.

Juls doesn’t stop thrusting into her, draws her pleasure out with these hard and even strokes that make it hard for Val to catch her breath, worse even, when Juls presses against her _just right_ , draws out a loud and throaty moan as Val’s arousal unexpectedly reignites, roars inside her like a spark doused in gasoline. 

Juliana stills, eyes catching Valentina’s questioningly, like she’s asking permission.

Val leans forward to press their foreheads together, one hand moving to stroke reverently at Juliana’s cheek, the other moving to clasp at Juliana’s wrist, guiding her back in deep. 

“Don’t stop,” she implores, gasping when Juliana bottoms out, fingers in as far as they will go and yet still not enough — not when Valentina’s sudden flare of need is so insistent, not when she’s throbbing so urgently.

“Add another finger,” she pleads, fingers releasing Juliana’s wrist to press against her throbbing clit, rubbing in tight circles as Juls pulls her fingers out and slides back in with three, drives into her with a deep and agile thrust.

Valentina keens, slams her eyes closed tight, a surge of colors dancing behind her eyelids like fireworks as Juliana stretches her so good, curls into her even better.

Valentina tries to breathe, tries to just relax and feel the budding pressure, but, her hips are jerking so desperately, her body intent on seizing its pleasure.

It’s Juliana’s voice that brings her back, that grounds her even though she feels like she’s quickly spinning out of control. 

“Hey, look at me,” Juliana murmurs, a soft request, but Juliana so rarely makes demands of her that it feels firm, makes Val comply right away.

She blinks open her eyes, finds Juliana’s gazing into hers, gentle and doting and enough — enough to slow the wild thrust of Valentina’s hips, enough to slow the hard press of her own fingers on her clit.  

She surges forward to kiss Juliana; well, _barely_ kiss her; well, more like breathlessly breathe into her, their lips just touching as Juliana’s fingers thrust and curl, thrust and curl, thrust and curl, a rhythm that has Valentina clenching around her knuckles, twisting to draw closer.

“That’s so good, baby; you’re so good,” Valentina husks out, mumbling, sounding strained to her own ears and feeling even more strained — pulled so taunt she might snap. 

She does.

It takes only a few more thrusts for Valentina to come again, harder than the first time, something erupting in pleasure inside her as everything around her goes suddenly silent except for the sound of her own pulse beating in her ears and Juliana’s ragged breath blowing cool against her lips.

Her own fingers falter against her clit but Juls keeps thrusting, slow and languid, drawing out these little aftershocks of pleasure until Valentina is shuddering from overstimulation, tapping on Juls’ wrist to pull out.

Valentina feels so light and euphoric, giggling with giddy affection as she finally tugs Juliana’s shirt the rest of the way off, drops it carelessly to the floor, and then tugs Juls against her, pulls her into a bruising hug.

“You're amazing,” she sighs, pressing her lips against the curve of Juls’ shoulder, still collecting herself, still just catching her breath.

“ _You're_ amazing,” Juliana contends, chuckling softly as she smooths her fingers through Val’s hair, allows her a few moments of tranquility before she withdraws from her arms.

“So, breakfast?” She asks, grinning cheekily,

Valentina laughs, loud and carefree, knowing with one hundred percent certainty that they’re not going to do anything that doesn’t involve being wrapped up in each other for the next few hours at least.

“Bed,” she counters and Juliana chuckles but nods emphatically.

“Bed,” she agrees.

 

So, maybe they’re at least 20 minutes late for lunch and maybe they do a poor job of covering up the mess Valentina made of Juliana’s neck, but, at least when Guille questions what Valentina did to work up such an appetite after she orders two full sized meals for herself alone, well, it isn’t really a lie when she says they skipped breakfast.

**Author's Note:**

> Still here? Woah! 
> 
> Thanks for reading! Drop a comment if you want! 
> 
> Also, you can check me out on [Tumblr](https://captainsockdrawer.tumblr.com/) even though I'm really bad at Tumblr. 
> 
> Also, check out this [Juliantina fanvid](https://vimeo.com/322898991) I made really quickly when I had to put myself in the Sin Bin for like 15 minutes because this fic was getting really kinky, really quickly!


End file.
